


It's dangerous to go alone; take one of these.

by 10scheherazade01



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Bilbo and Tauriel are buds, Bilbo needs a hug, Gen, Movie Spoilers, Not A Fix-It, and don't want any spoilers for them, everyone just needs a hug, if you haven't watched the movies, it's best not to get in the way, like seriously, tauriel needs a hug, travel buddies, watch out Middle Earth, when an elf and a hobbit decide to have an adventure, you should leave while you can
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 09:04:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4054345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/10scheherazade01/pseuds/10scheherazade01
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Speaking of homes, I have seen your trees, and the dwarves’ halls of stone, but I faithfully maintain that my home is the best, above all others. Your trees are tall, and the halls of Erebor are vast, but until you have seen the green rolling hills of the Shire, and felt the gentle grass beneath your feet, I don’t think anyone can have known true peace.” Tauriel’s lips quirked as she tried to suppress a grin.</p>
<p>“Why Mr. Baggins, I hesitate to call you a liar, but I do believe you exaggerate.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In the aftermath of the battle, Bilbo can't help but feel out of place. He finds companionship with Tauriel, neither of them feeling they have a claim to join in the mourning. Bilbo convinces her to come see the Shire (which he maintains is better than both the Greenwood, and Erebor). This is a record of their travels together, and the friendship forged.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's dangerous to go alone; take one of these.

 

Bilbo had grown close to the company throughout their journey, but in the aftermath of the battle, he felt out of place in his mourning. The others were dwarves well acquainted with Thorin and his sister-sons, some following him for years, decades even. No matter how deep he felt his sorrow, his comparatively short friendship seemed too shallow for him to join with them in their grief.

He found an unexpected companion in his displacement in Tauriel, the elf warrior who joined them in their fight, and with whom Kili had found the beginnings of love. They may have held the sons of Durin while they drew their last breaths, but in the end, they were not dwarves. They were a simple hobbit, and a warrior of the Greenwood. The shape of their ears was wrong, their height was wrong, and no matter what had passed before, their place was not with Erebor.

There was much to do in the aftermath of the battle. There were many who were injured, and even more who were dead. Winter was upon them, and men and women of Lake Town had little to eat, and nowhere to lay their heads. Bilbo often found himself where it felt most natural, preparing food for the refugees piecing together their lives, and the armies who were gathering their fallen.

Due to his size, Bilbo was at a disadvantage at best, and a liability at worst for most of the tasks that needed doing, but in the makeshift kitchens in the empty houses of Dale, he was in his element. When hobbits felt the need to comfort, their answer was almost always good warm food. It hurt too much to concentrate on the losses they had all sustained, and he found it much easier to keep a little distance from the rest of the company, and make himself useful.

Bilbo found himself in charge of the men, women, dwarves, and even some elves who were all there to prepare food. Someone had found him a chair upon which he stood, directing his various underlings.

“My dear, mind the soup, be sure you stir it. It would be a pity for it to burn. Ah, my good fellow, if you cut the potatoes into smaller sections, they will cook faster, and the soup will go farther.” He turned to the dwarf watching the bread in the oven. “That bread is turning out well, very well indeed.”

When the food was prepared, and provisions divvied out, there was nothing more for a hobbit to do, and he found himself wandering around the camps and broken city in an attempt to find a place out of the way. As he wandered, he saw the red haired elf who he recognized from Kili’s descriptions before they had become trapped in the mountain by Thorin’s gold-sickness. She sat atop a rampart, gazing at the horizon, with a forlorn look on her face.

Bilbo looked at her, and his heart clenched, as he recognized the pain she held at bay. He quietly went to one of the nearby kitchens and gathered two bowls of soup, and made his way back to her. He made sure to scuff his feet softly on the stones, because even if he had no illusions that he could surprise her, it was best not to take chances.

“You know,” he began. “Early on in our quest, I brought some food to Fili and Kili one night, and do you know what they did?” He offered the bowl to her, and waited until she took it before continuing. “They sent me to steal back our ponies from three enormous trolls.” At this remark, she turned her head and looked at him with an incredulous look on her face. “Oh yes,” he continued, as he scrambled up the stones to sit by her. “They had been tasked with watching the ponies that night, and when they found that two of the ponies were missing, they said that I was the burglar, so I should go and steal the ponies away from the trolls.” Bilbo took a spoonful of soup, and nudged the elf, gesturing that she should eat.

“Personally,” he began again, leaning close as if to tell a secret. “I think they just didn’t want to tell their uncle.” He rested his spoon in the bowl, and sat very still. “I think they spent most of their time trying to not to disappoint him.” Bilbo felt her shift beside him, as she lifted her spoon to her mouth. “In any case, Kili rushed out to defend me the moment I was in danger.” He paused again. “They were good lads.” They sat in silence for a few minutes, paying little mind to what they ate, as their thoughts stayed elsewhere.

Bilbo had used up much of his courage approaching her to begin with, but he mustered just a little more, and opened his mouth. “Though I have heard of you, we have not been introduced, what with the battle and all. Bilbo Baggins, of Bag End, at your service.” And he gave a slight bow to accompany his introduction. She turned towards him, and though there was still sorrow in her eyes, a smile graced her lips.

“Tauriel, of the Greenwood.” Her words stumbled slightly. “Or at least of late. I have been banished for my disobedience.”

“Banished?” Bilbo spoke with a horrified tone. “Why ever would you be banished?”

Tauriel placed the bowl beside her, and rested her hands on her lap, palms upright, and gazed at them. “I chose not to sit by and watch evil destroy more than it already had. Even if that meant disobeying my king.” She slipped her hand into a pocket, and brought out a smooth, round stone, with letters carved on its surface. “I do not regret my choice, because I know it was right. But it hurts to lose your home.” She closed her hand around the dark stone. “I think I understand now a little what they felt. Their home lost to them.”

Bilbo reached over and patted her hand lightly, closed as it was around the stone. Her head jerked up in surprise, and he smiled gently. “I cannot say I know what it is to lose a home, but I swore I would help my friends reclaim theirs. I wonder now, if only a little, if it was worth the price.”

Her answering smile was small, but genuine. “That is a question that may never be answered.”

Bilbo felt some relief at the lack of condemnation in her reply. He took her hand in both of his and gently shook them. “Speaking of homes, I have seen your trees, and the dwarves’ halls of stone, but I faithfully maintain that my home is the best, above all others. Your trees are tall, and the halls of Erebor are vast, but until you have seen the green rolling hills of the Shire, and felt the gentle grass beneath your feet, I don’t think anyone can have known true peace.” Tauriel’s lips quirked as she tried to suppress a grin.

“Why Mr. Baggins, I hesitate to call you a liar, but I do believe you exaggerate.”

“No indeed!” he exclaimed, glad to have brought a smile to her eyes. “It is the best, and though you may not believe me, you will see it for yourself. You must come with me to see the Shire. Though it may not hold enough excitement to keep you there forever, it is the best place to return to.” He released her hands and clasped his own in his lap. “I have seen a great deal on this quest, and learned even more, but the Shire is waiting to welcome me home, and embrace me with its bounty.”

“The Shire sounds lovely indeed.”

“The loveliest.” Bilbo picked up his bowl again, and began to eat. Once he was sure she had eaten, he broke the silence. “I have been told we have you to thank for saving Kili and our friends in Lake Town.”

Her bowl lowered to her lap and her head bowed. “A fruitless endeavor. What good came of it, in the end?”

“I do not believe any act of kindness or good is ever wasted,” Bilbo said firmly. “You brought him back to us, no matter how short a time.” Her head did not raise. He softened his tone. “There was not much time between their return and that awful battle, but he spoke of you. When we stopped in Rivendell, Kili professed to find no beauty in the elves there, but from the moment he saw you, I think he was struck by your beauty.” Tauriel’s face turned towards him, eyes hungry for more, but brow furrowed in uncertainty. “He especially liked your skill with a bow. He was the only one in our company to use a bow. The others used swords and axes and hammers and the like, and Bombur even used his spoon at times. I, of course was almost always useless in a fight. They called my blade a letter opener, and said it had never seen battle.” He patted his faithful blade that he still wore at his side. “It may not have done many great deeds, but it has served me well in our journey, and I like to call it Sting.

“I’ll be heading back to the Shire soon,” Bilbo said. “The dragon is slain, Erebor is reclaimed, the battle is won. This quest has been accomplished, and frankly, I’m quite ready for this Adventure to be over. But the road is quite dangerous for such a little hobbit. I could use a friend to help guide me home.” He looked slyly at her. “And you could come see my green rolling hills and judge for yourself the merits of my home.”

And Tauriel smiled in return.

**Author's Note:**

> No matter the criticisms or complaints, I have an incurable love for Tauriel, and not just because she is one of about 3-4 named female characters in the hobbit movies, but on her own merits. This story was spawned by a thought that she and Bilbo were kind of in a similar spot near the end, and wouldn't it be cool if they just wandered about Middle Earth, finding things to bring back to Bag End, for the little museum/library Bilbo opens so little hobbits can have their adventures without leaving the Shire. And honestly, I think more elves should see the Shire, and all the little hobbits. And Bilbo and Tauriel both just need really big hugs.


End file.
